


The Management

by junko



Series: Scatter and Howl [57]
Category: Bleach
Genre: M/M, Original Character(s)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-28
Updated: 2016-10-28
Packaged: 2018-08-27 13:46:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,614
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8403970
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/junko/pseuds/junko
Summary: The time has arrived for Renji to face whatever it is that the Second Division has planned in order to test for any hidden 'post-hypnotic suggestions' of Aizen's.





	

Renji woke with cold, empty arms. 

At some point in the night, Byakuya had extricated himself from their embrace and now lay on his side, his back to Renji like a stone wall. 

Renji lay awake for a while, listening to Byakuya breathe. The rain that had threatened last night, now spattered gently on roof tiles. Heavy clouds muted the light. It would be a perfect day for snuggling in deeper under the covers and doing a whole lot of nothing.

Except today Renji had an appointment at the Second.

With an unhappy sigh, he hauled himself as carefully as possible from the bed. Byakuya woke up only enough to irritatedly pull the covers up over his ears. 

After dressing, Renji made his way down the servant’s stairs to the kitchens. Before entering the main room, Renji could hear the sharp voices of price negotiation. Several rice and vegetable sellers all vied for the right combination of prices and quality to entice Miki’s attention. She walked up and down the long cutting table, smelling, squeezing and even tasting various wares that they’d lined up for her inspection and approval. Renji considered sneaking around the edges, but decided the room was too crowded. Besides, he didn’t want to interrupt Miki’s grand moment. It was clear from her posture that she was enjoying this--her time as queen of the Kuchiki kitchens.

That meant making his way through the main rooms. With a lift of his shoulder, Renji decided it couldn’t be helped. He had a pretty good idea of where to go; it should just be a matter of walking in a straight line, right? The only problem was that, outside of a few exceptions, most of the estate’s fusuma panels revealed room after room of empty, indistinguishable spaces. 

After the fifth of these and a foreboding sense of not having made any progress, Renji finally made it to a room he recognized: ‘the war room.’ Spattered blood remained on the walls, though several tatami panels had been removed from the floor, leaving deep gaps where dusty, weathered floorboards could be seen beneath. What was Byakuya going to about Yakimura? Was this really the end of the clan war? 

As he carefully picked his way around the gaps in the floor, Renji heard a sneeze.

Renji froze, listening intently. A small snuffling sound came from a spot to the rear of the room, even though no one was visible. He’d never heard anyone on staff talk about a Kuchiki ghost, so that left one option, “Shinobu?”

A wall panel slid aside. White of the kenseikan emerged from the shadows first, then a mop of curls. “The construction dust gave me away,” Shinobu smiled in a way that seemed pure Kyōraku.

Renji picked his way over to crouch next to the opening. “Shouldn’t you be halfway to court by now?”

“I go for the Hanami and stay,” Shinobu reminded Renji. From somewhere in the darkness, he pulled out what looked like a stash of day-old anpan and offered one to Renji. 

Never being a particularly picky eater and always a fan of red bean paste, Renji took a bun without hesitation. Lifting the sweet bread in a little salute of thanks, Renji said, “Itadakimasu,” before tearing in.

“You’re up early, Lieutenant,” Shinobu noted. He shifted so that he could be partly outside his little nest. He rested his elbows on the tatami and munched his bread. He looked astoundingly like a little kid, especially half-wrapped in blankets as he was, dribbling crumbs onto the tatami. The only thing that stopped Renji from ruffling his head was the presence of the kenseikan.

“I have a meeting,” Renji said, trying to sound nonchalant about it. But, thinking about Soi Fon’s dungeons made the bread stick in his throat. When Shinobu looked up at him, he admitted, “Not looking forward to it. I used to have this captain, Aizen, everybody liked him, only it turned out he was fooling us all. They’re going to grill me about him. I guess they’re worried about some kind of hypnotic-what’s it.”

“What’s it?”

Renji scratched his head trying to remember the words the Second Division used, “Post-hypnotic suggestion…?” Renji said uncertainly, but hearing it out loud made him nod to himself. “Yeah, that’s it. Some kind of implanted instruction or something.”

Shinobu frowned at his bread. “How are they going to test for that?”

“I guess I’ll find out.”

#

“You want to what now?” Renji asked. The rain had shifted to a downpour on his walk over to the Second, and he stood in the middle of a spacious room dripping onto the concrete. 

Concrete.

That was the first thing about this ‘procedure’ that unnerved Renji, especially since sections of the flooring had been scored by something that had left deep gouges, and several large, dark smudges that could either be a burn mark… or blood.

The other thing was the lack of windows. He wasn’t sure, but Renji had thought he’d sensed a slight decline as they’d wandered through the warren-like hallways of the Second Division. He wouldn’t be surprised if they were deep underground.

The Second Division officer, a pleasant-looking young man with a cheerful smile and a mess of curls, gestured to a device Renji was sure he’d seen somewhere before. “If you would just put your zanpakutō into this.”

Renji frowned at the vaguely familiar shape--a kind of two dimensional, wooden doll. It was not unlike the practice dummies used in zanjutsu, but white, pristine, without a single nick or scratch, like it had never been struck. Something about it unnerved Renji, particularly since he couldn’t shake the feeling he’d seen it somewhere before, out of context.

_We saw Zangetsu come out of it, you idiot_ , Zabimaru hissed.

“Right! Under Sokyoku Hill,” Renji said with a nod. “That’s Lady Yoruichi’s device, the one that pulls out…. ” Renji stopped, and turned a suspicious eye on the ‘friendly’ Second Division officer. “What do you want with Zabimaru? You don’t need that thing, I can manifest them without help.”

The officer glanced at the zanpakutō at Renji’s hip. “Them? You have more than one?”

“I have Zabimaru,” Renji said because explaining how the chimera worked seemed like a moot point if this guy was going to see the nue in a few minutes, anyway. “You must know I have bankai, so they can manifest anytime they like. You gonna do this to my whole division? Ain’t this a little personal, pulling out a guy’s soul like that, when maybe they ain’t ready?”

“I’m confused,” the officer sniffed, losing his smile to jot something down a clipboard. “Do you always use ‘they’ as a singular pronoun?”

Renji blinked at this guy’s rudeness. “Why do I feel like we’re looking at dinner, Zabimaru?”

The nue shimmered into existence beside Renji. Their massive shoulders bumped up against Renji’s side, and he rested a hand on the warm, coarse fur. “You may be right,” snarled the baboon king. The snake tail rose up to hiss at the Second Division officer. “I don’t know. We choke on jerky.”

It was a bad pun. Renji chuckled, but shook his head slightly. “So here we are, what do you want from us?”

The officer’s eyes were wide before settling into disappointment. “This is unacceptable. You were supposed to use the Tenshintai, Acting Captain.” 

Zabimaru growled lowly and Renji and the baboon king shared a glance. The creepy doll stood silent and menacing in the corner.

“O-kay,” Renji said, “Why?”

“What the Tenshintai draws out is more pure, easier to talk to,” the officer explained, but his eyes skirted the edges of the room, never looking directly either at Renji or Zabimaru.

The snake tail spat and hissed loudly. 

“Yeah, I don’t think so,” Renji said. His fingers dug into Zabimaru’s fur, taking comfort from the strong cords of muscle. “We’re not buying it. What’s it really do?”

“The Tenshintai draws the zanpakutō spirit out in a controlled environment, under direction. In the first few moments of separation, the spirit is more… compliant, truthful.”

“You mean you use that thing to interrogate traumatized zanpakutō spirits?” Renji didn’t wait for a response, because the answer seemed obvious. He shook his head and crossed his arms in front of his chest, “Yeah, I’m your last Sixth Division volunteer. You ain’t touching any of my people. You try and you will be Zabimaru’s breakfast.”

The officer raised a thin eyebrow and wrote something on his clipboard. “Have you always had a monster for a soul?”

Zabimaru’s roar shook the walls.

Renji stepped forward and put a finger on the clipboard and exerted just enough pressure to bring the board down enough for him to tap at the last place that the officer had written anything. “Demon. Spelled: n-u-e. And, yes. Yes, I have.” He turned away, having felt Zabimaru collapse back into their sealed state. “We’ll show ourselves out, shall we?”

#

 

Instead of returning to the Division, Renji demanded to see Soi Fon. The two guards at her office door closed rank when they saw him coming, their shoulders coming together and their hands dropping to their zanpakutō. 

As much as he was itching to punch someone, Renji stopped short and put up his hands. “I ain’t looking for a fight, ninja. I just need to see your boss. I’ll wait, if she’s busy.”

The little flop-haired officer came up on Renji’s heels. He didn’t have to say anything. With just a nod from him, the guards stepped aside. Renji followed him into Soi Fon’s office.

Her low table was empty. Instead, she stood looking out the window at the rainstorm, her hands clasped behind her back. The rings at the end of her long braids clacked together in the breeze that rustled the edge of her haori. “You’ve decided to be uncooperative, Abarai? So much like your brother.”

Renji let out a tight breath. “I dunno, you treat Seichi like shit, too?”

She turned around to gaze sharply at him. Though her hands stayed clasped behind her back, she managed to exude authority and threat, “What’s your complaint?”

“Acting Captain Abarai won’t use the Tenshintai,” the officer said from where he knelt, head pressed to the floor. 

“I see,” Soi Fon said. Turning around fully, she walked over to her low desk. Barely taller than Rukia, she somehow managed to loom. Her eyes narrowed and bore into Renji as though willing him to supplicate himself as well. Renji held his ground. “And how does the acting captain propose we get the information we need?”

“You seriously going to use that thing on kids who ain’t even seen shikai yet?” Renji asked. “Isn’t that dangerous?” 

“Dangerous?” she scoffed. “What’s dangerous is that Aizen Sousuke could command any one of us without our consent. Do you know how many people he taught at Academy? Thousands, Abarai. Tens of thousands. Any one of them could’ve been implanted with a suggestion to kill us all in our sleep.”

Renji nodded. It was a terrifying thought. The spectre of Aizen hadn’t diminished with his imprisonment. If anything, knowing he was here, just under the First Division, made Renji’s skin crawl more. “Didn’t they cover his mouth? In Muken, right? He’s supposed to be completely bound.”

“We don’t know what triggers the post-hypnotic suggestion,” Soi Fon said. “Besides, our investigation is not up for negotiation. You will comply voluntarily or you will be compelled.”

“Okay, okay, I hear you,” Renji raised his hands to show his compliance. If anyone in the whole Gotei had the authority to take him down without much more provocation, it was her. “Zabimaru and I don’t like your little torture device much, but I’m sure we can handle it. We been through worse,” Renji said, thinking about Urahara’s Quincy condom/purification rite. “But, I’m thinking about my unseated here, Captain. You really gonna rip their Souls out on the off chance Aizen might’ve tampered with them?”

She never hesitated. “If that’s what’s necessary to burn the cancer that is Aizen Sōsuke out of the heartblood of the Gotei, then yes.”

And Renji thought Byakuya could be hardcore. 

“Can I at least sit with them? If not me, somebody friendly--you know, maybe one of our own? Maybe have a couple of councilors from the Fourth standing by or something? I mean, I’ve got kids straight outta Academy. They barely just got asauchi. They ain’t seen battle, they ain’t ready for this kind of trauma.” Renji almost added ‘have a little heart’ but decided better of it. He clamped his lips shut, but couldn’t quite keep his jaw muscles from twitching as he glared at her.

Soi Fon was silent for a few moments. Clearly deciding something she gave a brisk nod. “Very well, I understand that your objection has your Division’s best interests in mind. Our compromise is this: any soldier without shikai will have the benefit of their captain’s presence. A Fourth Division healer will be at the ready for any who should require it, regardless of rank. Soldiers who have graduated Academy after Aizen’s betrayal will be exempted from testing. Do you find these terms acceptable, Captain?”

“Yeah, okay,” Renji said, a little stunned by how much ground he’d gained. “Yeah, that’s fair. Thank you, Captain.”

She gave him another little nod, so much like a bow that Renji found himself bowing back. 

“Will you require a nurse from the Fourth?” she asked haughtily. Her steady, stony gaze reminded him that despite his wins for his soldiers, he was not exempted.

_Zabimaru_?

_They are mistaken if they think their device will even stun a creature such as myself._ The baboon king returned. 

The snake tail hissed: _Yeah, if Zangetsu can handle it; we got this_.

“Nah,” Renji said. “We’re good.”

#

 

Renji had never blacked out from pain before. Not once. Not even when Szayelaporro Granz crushed his internal organs one by one.

Getsuga Tensho had knocked him out, but that had been a concussive shock on top of all the hurting. 

Maybe it hadn’t been pain this time, either. All Renji knew was that one minute it felt like his entire body was being torn in half by a burning fire, and the next he was groggily waking up to the sound of the Baboon King calmly explaining that ‘they’ was, in point of fact, the only appropriate pronoun for Kyoka Suigetsu as they were not in the least bit singular, while the Snake Tail not-so-quietly muttered that it was impossible to understand how anyone who has presumably dealt with zanpakutō spirits before could be so fucking hung up on pronouns.

From the cold concrete floor, Renji wondered aloud, “When’d we ever talk to Kyoka Suigetsu?”

“Mmmm,” the Baboon King murmured. He’d settled on the floor beside Renji’s prone body, legs sprawled out. “I suppose it was more of an impression than a meeting. We were with you in the asauchi when Kyoka Suigetsu and Shinso arrived to ‘rescue’” the nue did not make the air quotes, but Renji could hear the disdain in his voice as he said the word, “your Academy class.”

“Sssnake,” Snake Tail hissed, “Like us.”

“But, as it happened, neither were decent animals in the least,” the Baboon King snarled.

“Beasts,” Renji agreed. He rubbed the back of his head where it was sore. He must have cracked his skull hitting the floor. Shooting the pronoun-obsessed officer a glare, Renji said, “You should make the floors padded if you’re going to go knocking a guy out like that.”

The officer glanced up from his clipboard and let out a disappointed sigh. “You continue to stymie me, Captain. Your recovery time has broken our previous record.”

“Nice,” Renji said, stretching out. His whole body ached, like he pulled every single muscle. Fuck, even his face hurt. He pulled himself up only enough to slump into Zabimaru’s side. “You can pretend I’m not here.” Burying his face deep into warm fur, Renji shut his eyes. “Gonna nap.”

“So…” the officer continued after a beat, “You reached out to Aizen’s zanpakutō, not the other way around?”

The Baboon King grunted assent. Renji could feel the Snake Tail’s agitation as he slashed back and forth. “Shinso is poison,” Snake Tail spat. “That Kyoka Suigetsu isn’t reachable. Like liquid glass. Touch it, you fall in. Drowned.”

“Did you? Did you drowned?”

“Of course we fucking did!” the Snake Tail let out a long hiss. “But we never forgot we hated it.”

“Which,” The Baboon King pointed out, “Is a notable accomplishment.”

“Not that anybody believed us,” Renji murmured. “I barely believed myself, even with you two wrenching my gut every time those two were around.”

“Our voice was quieter then,” the Baboon King said, even as the Snake Tail hissed, “You should have listened to us, fool!”

Renji’s eyes snapped open and he was not at all surprised to be staring at the lidless eyes of Snake Tail. He jabbed his finger at the triangular head, “Oi! You didn’t help any by going into hiding any time they were near. I didn’t think I was ever gonna get shikai!”

“Gentlemen,” the officer’s voice cut through their argument. “If we could focus on the task at hand?”

Renji and the Snake Tail both turned their heads to glare at Pronoun Officer. “Fine,” snarled Renji, at same time as Snake Tail said, “Whatever.”

Pronoun Officer raised a thin eyebrow. “I have grave doubts that the Tenshintai is still exerting its power over any of you, but we might as well continue the questionnaire. “How often did you interact with Aizen Sōsuke in his role as Captain of the Fifth?”

The Baboon King glanced at Renji, who was snuggling back against Zabimaru’s side. Even though Renji really wanted to sleep, the message in the look was clear: ‘you take this one.’ With a sigh, Renji left the warmth of the fur. Crossing his legs tailor fashion, he sat up more properly. He let his hand rest against Zabimaru’s flank, however. Something about that contraption had left him feeling not only achy, but empty… hollow. “Uh, I dunno,” Renji said. “I guess I lasted in the Fifth about six months? It wasn’t more than a year, I know that for sure. Aizen mostly left the unseated to Ichimaru, but I went out on a couple of assignments with him…”

“What sort of assignments?”

Renji grimaced. He wanted to say--

“Ugly ones,” the Baboon King spoke aloud what Renji’d been intending to keep to himself. 

“Ugly?” Pronoun Officer said, perking up in interest.

“Tests,” Snake Tail hissed.

Exactly what Renji was thinking, but wouldn’t have said because they sounded crazy. He was beginning to understand how this Tenshintai thing worked. Rubbing the back of his head in embarrassment, Renji squinted at the officer. “I wouldn’t have said that ‘cuz it sounds crazy, but, yeah, that was the feeling I got, that I was being tested.”

“Did you pass?”

“Oh yeah,” Renji said grimly. “I did.”

“And,” the officer said, lifting his stylus again, “What were you being tested for, exactly?”

Renji hesitated and so the Snake Tail said, “Loyalty. To see if we would slaughter our own for the Gotei.”

“We were taken to the Rukongai,” the Baboon King explained. “To kill the unarmed starving masses we once were, to mete out injustice masquerading as law.”

“Oi, oi,” Renji admonished quietly. “We’re talking to the law.”

The Baboon King bellowed in rage; the Snake Tail spit and hissed.

In that moment Renji knew. He knew that Zabimaru couldn’t stop the words spilling out. The Tenshintai compelled this somehow. His Soul was literally being laid bare, vulnerable and open to anyone.

The officer flinched. Renji suddenly understood the concrete and the deep claw marks in the flooring, too. No zanapakutō would betray their welder easily, willingly.

“It’s okay,” Renji whispered, his fingers stroking Zabimaru’s coarse fur. “A couple of times Aizen took a bunch of us unseated out into the Rukongai. It was always legitimate. Orders direct from the Head Captain, signed and stamped. Rebellions to put down. Thieves to be rounded up and executed. Villages that had been sentenced to pay for harboring deserter shinigami. Stuff like that. Thing is, Aizen didn’t pick the gentlemen’s kids to go on these kind of missions; he always targeted Rukongai rats like us. He made it clear what the punishment was for disobeying a direct order. So, yeah, it was ugly. Not only did us ‘good soldiers’ do the dirty work, but sometimes we were forced to cut down any of our own unseated officers who showed hesitation or turned tail to run.”

“And you passed this test?” At Renji’s curt nod, the officer smiled wanly and said, “You would have made a good _kanritai._.”

‘The management,’ what the Second Division called their punishment squad. “Yeah, Ichimaru gave me that nickname,” Renji said. “Sometimes he’d sing: Kanritai Abarai. Probably why I punched him.”

The Second Division officer gave Renji and Zabimaru a long look. “Yes, your jacket mentions that rather infamous altercation,” he flipped through something on his clipboard and said, “And you stood up to Aizen when few others did. I think we’re done here. I think the fact that Aizen had a good soldier in you and abandoned you over something that could have been smoothed over, means he found you resistant and unworthy of his attention. I’m marking you and Zabimaru clean.”

Aizen always had called Renji ‘troublesome.’ Never had he been more proud of it. “Cool,” Renji said. “Now who’s going to help me stand up because I don’t think my legs work.”


End file.
